


when it rains it pours

by sakichi



Series: one more hour, one more day [1]
Category: Shin Sangokumusou | Dynasty Warriors
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Day At The Beach, Denial of Feelings, Dialogue Heavy, Fade to Black, Gen, Light Angst, M/M, Not Beta Read, Pre-Relationship, Swearing, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Wrestling, i'm doing a lot of projecting onto sima zhao, jia chong pines but only a little bit and never verbally, lapslock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:54:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26804695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakichi/pseuds/sakichi
Summary: it's their last few moments as friends among friends, before they make the inevitable transition into heirs to the throne and their respective advisors.
Relationships: Jiǎ Chōng/Sīmǎ Zhāo
Series: one more hour, one more day [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954867
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	when it rains it pours

**Author's Note:**

> i make use of jia chong's and sima zhao's style names in this work.
> 
> sima zhao/zishang  
> jia chong/gonglü
> 
> not beta read, all mistakes are mine

sima zhao kicks and digs his toes into the sandy lake bed dirt underneath his soles.

"y'know, i can tolerate hearing it from brother, and i can tolerate hearing it from yuanji, but i don't want to hear it from you," he sighs. the tone of his voice is more exasperated than it is angry, because zhao doesn't get angry. but the grip he holds on his ceramic cup betrays the fact that he is more than a little frustrated at having to hold a conversation he despises having with his most beloved confidante.

jia chong takes a measured breath and blinks slowly. "just because you don't want to hear it doesn't mean you shouldn't have to." his voice remains slow and steady, which is to be expected of him, but irritates sima zhao regardless. sima zhao exhales heavily through his nostrils before taking a generous sip of wine from his cup.

"will you can it already? i thought we were on vacation," he says lightheartedly, though the tension in the air increases.

sima shi, opposite of the fire from jia chong and sima zhao, stretches languidly before standing. he brushes the sand from the legs and seat of his pants before turning his back to the lake and making motion for the hideaway further up the shore.

"milord, where are you going?" wang yuanji asks. zhao frowns; when she asks him the same question it's not usually as tender or polite.

sima shi speaks as he walks.  
"i think i've had my fill of zhao complaining for the night, i'm going to bed. goodnight." not once does he turn back to address the others, and the heavy sound of the wooden doors opening and closing can be heard all the way back on the beach.

"oh how lovely!" sima zhao jests, increasingly upset. "i've ruined yet _another_ one of my brother's perfect evenings with my incessant whining."

nobody dignifies him with a response. zhao, emboldened, finishes the remnants of wine in his cup, and tosses the expensive pottery into the fire.

"master zhao!"  
"zhao...!"

the glazed finish begins to flake and crumble, a thick line beginning to zigzag down the middle. sima zhao himself rests his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, with a self satisfied smile on his face as the cup shatters. jia chong and wang yuanji sit in perturbed silence for a few brief moments.

"i think i will retire for the night as well," yuanji states. she's halfway up the shoreline before she offers a "try not to stay up too late," exasperated, and over her shoulder.

the two of them sit in silence, jia chong contemplative, and sima zhao moody, for a couple minutes longer, watching the pottery blacken and burn.

"that was childish of you." jia chong's voice remains deadpan, but the disappointment is obvious. sima zhao turns his head, but jia chong isn't looking at him.

"who are you? father? shi, maybe? leave me alone."

"you're acting like a brat, sima zhao," jia chong tells him bluntly.

"wow, no one's _ever_ called me that before."

"you're only proving my point. you're an adult now, act like it."

sima zhao stares holes into the side of jia chong's head, and briefly regrets not pouring his wine on him.

"stop looking at me like that, zhao," jia chong chastises, but still doesn't look him in the eyes, or even turn his head in that direction.

"look at me, gonglü. or does chastising me face to face make you uncomfortable?"

this garners jia chong's attention, and at sima zhao's jab does he finally rotate his head, expression as impassive as ever.

"what's with this sudden desire to provoke me, zhao?"

sima zhao doesn't respond, meeting jia chong's unfazed stare with a frown and furrowed brows.

"are you drunk?" jia chong cocks a short eyebrow, the most expressive he's been the entire night.

sima zhao's frown deepens into a scowl.

"oh, so i can't be angry and sober?" he accosts. jia chong sees zhao's shoulder muscles ripple ever so slightly under his informal garments. his newfound adulthood has been kind to him. he's already shot above his older brother in height, and will soon be taller than jia chong as well. he's already broader than the rest of their party, and constantly smacking his new shoulders into door frames and passerby accidentally. jia chong can't imagine a slender zhao lasting into adulthood. he has yet to earn a compliment like this, but the broadness suits him, and well. 

"seriously now, you're in rare form tonight. enough with the petulance. how do you expect people to take you seriously when you're acting like this?"

sima zhao rotates his body and shoves jia chong none too kindly, but not enough to hurt.

"seriously, enough. you're starting to piss me off." sima zhao's expression relaxes from a deep scowl into an irritated pout and he resumes staring into the fire, his cup more reminiscent of ash now that time has passed. he really doesn't want to be angry at jia chong, the emotion borderline unfamiliar. but he doesn't have it in him to just drop the conversation. and it's not like he can fake another bout of jovial conversation after he's gone this far. jia chong doesn't allow an extensive period of silence to lapse between them.

"how in the world do you expect to handle responding to public opinion when you refuse to accept criticism from your peers?"

sima zhao groans low and deep in his throat, burying his hands in thick hair.

"shut up jia chong, shut _up_. i'm tired of it."

jia chong finally turns to face sima zhao head on.

"i'm telling you this as both an advisor and your friend," he starts. sima zhao doesn't look up. "if you don't start thinking about it now, i know you'll think about it never."

"jia chong-"

"you cannot expect lord sima yi or master shi to bear all of your burdens and expect that you'll never ascend to a position of leadership-"

" _jia chong_ -"

"let me finish, zhao. i know you hate hearing it but you cannot, and i mean, _cannot_ keep shirking responsibilities in such a crucial time as-"

jia chong is interrupted before he can finish his sentence, sima zhao clumsily lunging from his sitting position to tackle jia chong into the dirt.

"what the hell is wrong with you?" jia chong asks, his voice deceptively even. sima zhao has him pinned to the sandy shore by his shoulders, jia chong's hands moving to establish a firm grip on the former's wrists. "get off of me, zhao."

illuminated by the still ever present fire, it is glaringly apparent how sima zhao is steadily growing into himself. his face is finally beginning to angle out, chin and jaw shaped squarer than that of his father and brother. his cheekbones are more prominent than they were a year or so prior, highlighted in orange and yellow. it's a welcome change, the squareness still makes him seem more baby-faced than his brother (which feels appropriate, if you ask jia chong, and maybe yuanji if you catch her in the right mood). 

"you asked me if i was trying to provoke _you_ and yet it seems like you're actively trying to provoke _me_ ," sima zhao accosts, not lessening his grip. jia chong experimentally pushes his shoulders up against zhao's hands, meeting nothing but solid force.

"i'm not going to fight you, now _move_." jia chong's eyes darken and he pushes again, more forcefully this time.

"it _really_ seems like that's what you want. go on; take a swing," sima zhao sits back onto jia chong's thighs, freeing a hand to tap it high against his jawline. "maybe that'll please you enough to shut the hell up when i ask you to."

jia chong doesn't waste an opening when he sees one, swiftly breaking free of the other hand pinning him down, and reversing their positions. bracing sima zhao's hips with his thighs, he fists his hands in the front of zhao's shirt and hoists him an inch or so off the dirt. he holds sima zhao's gaze in that position before an apparent internal change of heart, quickly and nonchalantly releasing his grip, and standing up without a word.

"what was that, huh? does harassing your lord stop in the physical sense?" sima zhao seethes, still laying in the sand, voice laced with vitriol. jia chong holds sima zhao's gaze, towering over him for the first time ever. his fists clench and relax at his sides, and he swallows thickly, exhales heavily through his nose once.

"i never understood why my lord felt the need to constantly compare you to your brother, but now i _do_."

as soon as jia chong spits the words, sima zhao darts a foot out and kicks his advisor's legs out from under him, sending a wave of sand into their modest fire and extinguishing it. the moment jia chong's back hits the ground, sima zhao is on top of him. they are quick to grapple, sand sneaking its way into expensive silk. zhao is noticeably bulkier than jia chong, but has yet to learn how to use his strength to advantage, leading to jia chong rolling them over into the ashes of their once-fire. it has yet to cool down completely, wood that had yet to burn digging into the small of sima zhao's back uncomfortably. jia chong presses a forearm forcefully into sima zhao's windpipe.

" _yield_."

sima zhao arches his neck and head, headbutting jia chong as hard as he can given his position. jia chong swears and loosens his grip to press a hand to his forehead. zhao makes a move to overpower jia chong into the sand once more; jia chong, hand still braced against his head, lashes out with his free hand and catches sima zhao in the nose with a closed fist.

sima zhao hisses in pain, cradling his nose with both hands as his eyes begin to water. jia chong wastes no time in scrambling behind his friend, trapping him in a choke hold. his legs wrap around zhao's midsection, but only trap one of his arms. sima zhao bucks in jia chong's grip for a few brief moments before grabbing a fistful of sand and tossing it over his head. most of the sand gets in his hair, but enough gets in jia chong's eyes to prove a nuisance.

jia chong grimaces and bites back a yelp at the offending sand in his eyes. his grip lessens slightly, but not enough for sima zhao to break free. zhao, however, does manage to roll both of them over, and tosses his head back, hard, catching jia chong in the mouth. he does let go then, letting sima zhao roll to safety.

there's finally a pause. sima zhao rests on his hands and knees, chest heaving as he struggles to regain his breath. jia chong haphazardly scrubs the sand out of his eyes, blood slowly pooling behind and eventually trickling past thin lips. they remain like that for a while, not making eye contact with one another as they take their time regaining their composure.

sima zhao is the first to move, standing up and shaking sand out of his clothes. he pauses with his back to jia chong, and his shoulders twist ever so slightly as if he's going to turn around, but don't. he doesn't look behind him as he returns to the lake house. jia chong stares at his back until it disappears behind closed doors, and then does he get up and do the same.

he waits outside on the patio until he's sure that zhao is in his own room and not milling about in the common area. all of the lanterns are extinguished except for yuanji's when jia chong enters the hideaway, but it she blows it out within seconds.

as gorgeous as the moon light is, it illuminates very little. regardless, jia chong struggles little finding his room. the basin of water on his vanity has long gone cold, but he uses it to quickly wipe his face and body of sand, and the little blood that stained his lip and chin. he pushes the full, but lingering, pain of a freshly busted lip to the furthest recesses of his mind, along with the fact that he dared to scrap with sima zhao. something odd and funny twists in his stomach, and he ignores that too. it's too dark to see his reflection, and he's sure that he doesn't want to anyways. sleep overtakes him the moment his head hits the pillow.

-

jia chong is awake early. it's gross, gray, and cloudy outside, and it's definitely going to rain before afternoon rolls around. he imagines he can quietly make himself some breakfast and enjoy an hour or two of silence before the others rouse from their slumber.

robed and barefooted, he makes his way to the door, pushing it open to the sight of sima zhao.

he didn't do a great job of getting sand out of his hair, some still visible in the front of his scalp. his nose is starting to swell and is blossoms an ugly red color. sima zhao's hand is raised as if to knock, and remains that way for an awkward few seconds after jia chong has already opened the door.

"um." zhao drops his hand. jia chong simply blinks, hand still on the door.

neither of them say anything for a few beats, busy feeling uncomfortable and surveying each other's physical effects of last nights tussle. jia chong doesn't sport more than an obviously wounded lip, still bright pink and tender looking. sima zhao keeps opening and closing his mouth like he wants to say something, and his eyes aren't sure what they should be looking at on jia chong's face, or if they should even be looking at all.

"gonglü, i-"

jia chong holds up a hand.

"are you going to apologize?"

sima zhao shuts his mouth, swallows, and nods once.

"don't."

"but i-"

" _zishang._ "

sima zhao does little to stifle the warm feeling that blooms rapidly in his chest. it's almost enough for him to put a hand over his heart, the way jia chong says his name. if he's ever referred to him that way before, zhao certainly doesn't remember it. he'll make a note to pay better attention for the next time. perhaps shi would be proud of this newfound diligence, even if it wasn't for politics.  
jia chong doesn't say anything after that, nor offer a smile, or a hug. sima zhao however, does smile, and sigh in relief. he scratches the back of his head idly, and jia chong watches sand trickle onto the ground. when he refocuses, sima zhao is staring intently at his bottom lip.

"what?"

zhao shrugs. his eyes flicker up to jia chong's briefly, and flicker back down. jia chong staunchly remains in his still open doorway. there's not enough room for sima zhao to step forward, so he leans in slightly and pauses with a few centimeters before their noses touch. he's not quite an entire inch taller than jia chong yet, but he will be soon, the fact emboldened by their current proximity. jia chong makes no sign of moving, staring down the bridge of his nose back at sima zhao. zhao leans in even closer, tilts his head to the right, and gently kisses jia chong on the top lip. it's nothing more than a peck. when he pulls back, just enough to survey jia chong's face, his expression has not changed. they make eye contact, jia chong blinking lazily and slow like a cat, before sliding together like two lily pads in a pond.

sima zhao braces himself against jia chong's door frame, the latter keeping his hand against his still open door. they kiss slowly, and without touching, frequently coming apart as if to move on to the next thing, but coming back together like magnets. it's when sima zhao relegates a hand to jia chong's jaw, does jia chong pull away. zhao moves his hand to its previous position, but does not pull his face back, lips still a hair's breadth away from jia chong's.

"zhao."

he was beginning to hate how neutral jia chong always sounded.

"um."

sima zhao retreats from jia chong's mouth and licks his lips.

"i don't know why i did that."

jia chong's eyes flutter for a millisecond.

"i'm not sure why you did that either."

sima zhao nods slowly and to himself as he peels himself away from the door frame.

"okay." 

jia chong smiles ever so slightly, more to himself, but sima zhao doesn't let it escape him. he doesn't blush, he never has, and never will, but the warmth is there. 

"breakfast?" jia chong asks. sima zhao's responding grin is immediate. 

"are you cooking? hell yeah."

**Author's Note:**

> i plan to make this part of a series, just need to get around to the doing part y'know


End file.
